Diablo: Jungle of Shadow
by Hawki
Summary: The Dark Exile was a time of woe for Sanctuary and the Torajan Jungles were no exception. A dark place, braved only by those forced to traverse the realm of trees and shade. A realm that became that of darkness. A realm confronted by the Light...
1. Prologue: Air

**.**

**Diablo: Jungle of Shadow**

**Prologue: Air**

It was night...but you wouldn't know it.

Over the last week or so, Felix had noticed that. No matter how high the sun, no matter its level of heat and light, it had no effect on the gloom. True, it was humid. True, it was hot. True, he was sick of it, and had made his views known to anyone who cared to listen. But the Torajan Jungles were still dark regardless. Dark, dangerous and certainly not the kind of place one should wander alone.

Yet Felix did so regardless. Ignoring the chirping of unseen creatures, the sixteen year-old boy felt he had little choice in the matter.

The call had been given, and he'd answered. He hadn't told anyone about the...need, to leave their trade caravan. He hadn't explained the...whispers...in the dark...drawing him in like a corpse might attract a dune thresher. He hadn't speculated on what it might mean for him, whether it was the sign of a calling with the Vizjerei, Zakarum or another power entirely. Either way, he ventured into the darkness, golden hair and bright eyes standing out as clearly as he would in the marketplace of Kurast. Kept following, kept wandering, a faint light in the darkness.

Kept wandering for a good two hours.

Shivering as perspiration was released into the cool night air, Felix wondered if he should turn back. He couldn't explain this...need, to wander from his group, but not all things in this world could be explained or understood, and if the edicts of the Light held any truth, perhaps that was for the best. In the day, in lands further south, he might have gone on until sunrise. But this wasn't the day, and the lands here were much different. Far better to...

_You are close, human child. So very close..._

_To what?_

_What you seek._

The words were not spoken, nor fully understood. Not by Felix, and maybe not even by the one contacting him either. But he understood the...meaning. The desire. The need. The compulsion to keep wandering into the gloom. To find what he sought. Even if it took him another hour...or two.

_Closer...closer..._

_How close?_

_You're...closing in._

More words, more uncertainty, more gloom. If the sun was beginning to cast its rays over the world, Felix couldn't see it. Then again, he could barely see anything. He was walking blind, with only four senses to rely on, five if one included intuition. They sustained him. His thirst ignored, his fatigue discarded, the...thick air...making it difficult to breathe...

_Need...rest..._

_Of course you do..._

The teen lowered his gaze to meet the cool soil of the jungle, and breathed deeply. He'd been walking for hours, and was not a prime physical specimen, as practically everyone pointed out. But to be this tired, both in weariness and lack of sleep...it was tempting...so tempting...to lie down here and rejuvenate both mind and body.

_Then go ahead...but would you wake up?_

_...what?_

The voice...it was clearer now. He heard the words, and despite their foreign, harsh tongue, understood them. For all his laboured breaths, for all the...heavy air and dense foliage, the voice was the only beacon of light in the darkness.

_Or darkness in the light. But it matters not...such things are beyond Men..._

Soon, his breath didn't matter. Soon, the dark was not of the jungle, but of his own mind. Soon, as terror rose within him, the voice was all that was left.

_And besides...the darkness is all you have now. It is all you ever will have...the light is gone from your world. It shall not return._

Felix didn't know much. He didn't know whether this voice was for a higher calling, or a malignant force. But right now, he wanted nothing to do with either of these. Rising to his feet, ignoring the pounding of both his lungs and heart, he looked for an escape to this madness.

There was none.

_No...impossible...can't..._

The voice had spoken the truth-the dark was all that remained. Not the dark of night. Not the dark of the jungle canopy. Just...dark. Nothing. A void. An emptiness filled only by the sound of his breathing and the pounding in his head. The emptiness...of his very soul.

_Fear not, child, _the voice whispered. _We have all night to ruminate your situation._

Felix didn't know what the voice meant. But as he lost consciousness, as he uttered a prayer to whatever benevolent entity might be willing to aid him, he knew that the voice had spoken at least one lie.

They didn't have all night to discuss this. For night was a phase of time that existed in opposite to day.

And right now, as the darkness took him, times of day became entirely irrelevant to him.

* * *

_A/N_

_This isn't the first _Jungle of Shadow _story I've written and one will be able to find plenty of similarities between this and the _Sonic the Hedgehog _version I wrote. Still, how there came to be two stories is a long...story (see homepage) and not intentional, but decided to go ahead regardless. At least here it's easier to work with demons._


	2. Earth

**.**

**Diablo: Jungle of Shadow**

**Chapter 1: Earth**

To move quickly, one had to prepare quickly. Or, if one wanted to put another spin on the phrase, efficiency translated into efficiency, both in preparation and action. Or he who hesitates is lost. Or, insert saying here, translating into insert situation here.

Right now, Seth didn't give a damn about any such saying in any language, and he only cared slightly more that morning had come and as such, the trade convoy was in the preparation stages of the same action they'd repeated over the last month-continue the trek back from Kurast to Seram. To shake off hangovers, pack up tents, harness horses, and prepare to continue that trek-not necessarily in that order. Or in Seth's case, make his way through the convoy to find the one leading it.

_What in Heaven's name is he thinking? We're leaving? Now? Does he even know?_

Seth couldn't begin to comprehend the motivations of his father, bar the universal desire to get out of the Torajan Jungles and reach the less humid, more open lands to the south. Yet as universal as that desire was, surely it didn't outweigh the search for Felix?

The young man didn't know. But while he didn't like what the likely answer to that question was, he was determined to find out anyway.

No-one approached the son of Passanius as he looked for his father, and not just because his quick strides made it difficult for anyone to approach him. Brown haired, grey eyed and with a build that had attracted the eyes of a few mercenary companies over the years, he was very much his father's son. Hard, uncompromising, and willing to fight against the world if the world picked a fight with him. It was a similarity to his father that he didn't deny, though Seth liked to think he still differed to some extent. More ambition than to live his life outside towns and cities rather than in them for starters. And also enough compassion to put off departure to search for the youngest member of their family.

"Ah, Seth, just the man I wanted to see."

And enough intelligence to approach a difficult topic more subtlety.

_Or maybe it isn't difficult for him at all..._

"Father..." Seth declared, walking over to the balding man and using his height to his advantage. "Thought I smelt something other than sweat and blood. Or maybe someone forgot to tend to the latrine."

"Charming," Passanius grunted, all pretence of family affection swept out into the Twin Seas. He turned to the horse set to pull his caravan, the poor beast's hair slick with sweat in the rapidly warming jungle. "Now, if you've done with sweet-talk, you can bring Felix's gear to us."

"I could...or we could let Felix do it himself."

Passanius sighed, looking up to meet his elder son with a gaze that seemed to say "oh, if only I could be young again." Seth wouldn't have been surprised. While Felix took after his deceased mother, his brother of two years senior was his father's son physically as much as psychologically...or so people said.

"Seth, you know Felix as well...better...than I do. Lad's more trouble than he's worth. Must have gone off on a wander and-..."

"A wander that began _when_?" Seth asked, determined not to let the old man brush off the issue that had been plaguing him since he first woke up. "When did he leave? Why isn't he back yet?"

"Maybe he's waiting for the fairies to bring him home," Passanius snapped, shoving past Felix to hand a map to one of the traders under his employ. "How the hell should I know? He's a dreamer with no sense of time and no sense of direction."

"But unlike _you_, he _does _have a sense of family."

That did it, Seth reflected, as he watched his father's shoulders stiffen, along with the rest of his body. His eyes narrowed as he slowly turned to face him, his fists clenched, the map crumpled as a result...there was nothing Passanius could do, what with being in his late fifties and therefore often mistaken to be Seth's grandfather rather than sole remaining parent. His son was being approached by everyone from Kehjistan to Lut Gholein, while he was stuck in a pattern of life that he'd carried out for decades. Seth could leave him at any time, do anything to him, a status quo which suited the trader's elder son just fine. Problem was, it seemed that Passanius assumed that his younger son was of the same mould. Seth was his father's son. Felix was the son of a dead mother. In Passanius's narrow world, that was all there was to it.

"Listen to me Seth, and by Heaven, listen well..." Passanius growled. "Felix is my son. And your brother."

"Exactly. Which is why we-..."

"But I have over two-dozen men to look after as well," the old man continued. "Men with wives, children and extended families. You, who talk about responsibility, would have me risk their lives to find just one-..."

"Risk their lives?" Seth exclaimed, unable to believe what he was hearing, or that his father genuinely seemed to believe it. "This is a _jungle_, father, not a battlefield."

"As far as you know..." Passanius murmured. "But you know the tales of these jungles Seth. Of the plight that has gripped Sanctuary...of the powers that be..."

"If you're talking about the bullshit that idiotic people like yourself believe, then yes, I do."

"Then that's your prerogative," Passanius growled, clearly not fond of being called an idiot. "But it's mine to get this convoy moving and trust that Felix finds us before Hell finds him."

And with that, the conversation was finished.

A few seconds, one thump against the side of the caravan and a sore fist later, Seth silently admitted that his father had a point. Over the last few decades, there'd been something...wrong, with the world. Wars among cities and nations for the most petty of reasons, vicious beasts, even whispers of demons...as if Hell, or some element of it had taken a stake in the world. At least that was what the Zakarum preached, maintaining that only through faith to the Light would a man be spared this time of darkness. As far as Seth was concerned, the statistics couldn't be ignored, but nor could the fact that the priests were nothing more than Men. Men, like all men, who could take any situation and turn it to their own advantages. Men no different than the mercenaries who had approached him, knowing that this was a good time to fight for gold, whether it be monsters or other Men. People could yak on about Heaven and Hell, but all Seth cared about was the here and now. And considering humanity's penchant for killing each other _without _divine or demonic intervention, he saw no reason to look for a demon or angel out of the corner of his eyes.

But then again, the fact that these were dangerous times _did _beg consideration. Which was why he couldn't understand his father's motives in abandoning his other son. Safety in numbers was a valid strategy, but what about "leave no man behind?" They weren't barbarians of the West or deep South, they were human beings. Heck, even animals looked after their young.

_But maybe he's right, _the young man reflected, leaning against the caravan as a bag of swords and axes was thrown into it-goods from Lut Gholein that a trader could find in its palace. _Maybe the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few._

_But he's your brother...and Passanius's son..._came the voice of his conscience. _You can do what your father can't._

The voice washed over him, filling him with...warmth (and not the usual sort). A warmth that prompted him to listen to it.

_Your father is old...but you are young. The mercenaries saw potential in you._

_But he's my father._

_And Felix is your brother. Honour thy father, but..._

Seth shut the voice out. He wasn't in the mood for platitudes to be recited. But then again, as he imagined his younger brother alone in this hellhole, maybe lost...he could shut out the words, but not their meaning.

_Come on...it'll only be a few hours..._

On one count, Passanius was right. Felix was more trouble than he was worth.

That still didn't stop Seth grabbing one of the swords and heading out to find him.

* * *

The being was disgruntled.

All the chaos of the East, all the plight of mortals...it was satisfying. It was glorious. It was...fulfilling. But it meant that the worms' plodding footsteps had become non-existent in recent times, the lands too dangerous for their frailties to take. Mortal deaths were all well and good, but if one wasn't around to do the deed personally, then they were wasted. He had a...'quota' to meet, and the mortals' cowardice wasn't making it easy to do so.

But as one strayed away from the many, as he sensed a fiery soul nearing him...perhaps that could change...


	3. Fire

.

**Diablo: Jungle of Shadow**

**Chapter 2: Fire**

"I'm sorry Passanius...but I don't think your sons are coming back."

"Don't you think I know that?"

"I think you may need reminding."

Passanius didn't know what irritated him more. That Seth and Felix were missing, that he couldn't come to terms with that, or that Claudius was the one to remind him of this. A thin man with an even thinner moustache, the convoy's leader hadn't expected the twenty-something year-old to be the one to speak for the convoy, to express their desire to get even closer to Seram. But still, he hadn't expected to lose both his sons in the space of a few hours. And in that regard...as a father, that was what certainly irritated him the most.

"Seth hasn't been gone that long..." the old man murmured, refusing to face his younger counterpart. "Give him time."

"He's been gone for hours. And what's his chance of even finding Felix?"

"Not as great as the chance of me ramming this through your gut..." the elderly trader murmured, fingering a spear that had been obtained in Kurast. "But still high."

Claudius remained undeterred, though how much of that could be attributed to individual courage rather than the presence of the mob, Passanius didn't know.

"Not high enough for us," Claudius said firmly. "Not high enough for them either. Not with what lurks in the jungle's shadows. The same creatures you pointed out to your son when trying to keep him under your wing."

Passanius gripped his spear tighter. "Eavesdropping, Claudius? That's a bit-..."

"Passanius, we all heard it," ventured one of the traders. "We heard you try to keep Seth, to keep your own son rather than risk losing him. You wouldn't search for him then. So don't expect us to search for him now."

Passanius hated it when his words were turned against him. He hated it even more when those uttering them were right. He'd told Seth that he couldn't risk his men's lives for his son. So now there was no way they'd be willing to do what he refused to. Families, loved ones...they always took priority, and these men's families were waiting for them far to the south. Right now, beneath the shadowed trees, could he ask them to do what he'd refused to earlier?

He couldn't. And in a way, that was a small comfort to him. Felix the dreamer, Felix his mother's son, Felix the weakling as opposed to strong Seth...right now, torn between emotion and reality, Felix had become just as important as his older brother.

It might have been a more comforting revelation had there been a stronger chance of being able to convey that.

"Well, Passanius?" Claudius asked. "What are your orders? Risk our lives? Or cut your losses?"

"We're talking about my children..."

"And we're talking about ours!" yelled Brutus-recently married, and expecting a child of his own if he remembered correctly. "None of us our children here, Passanius! But while yours are probably burning in Hell right now, ours are..."

Claudius held up a hand, which was just as well. Family love was one thing. So was devotion to the Light. But suggesting the fate of damnation? Passanius wasn't particularly religious, even with all these tales of the evils gripping the East, but even so...

"Brutus, I hope for your sake that you never know what Hell truly is..." the old man whispered. "But I do. And that's why I'm going to give the following orders..."

And he gave them.

And his men were satisfied.

* * *

A knight in shining armour. A hero. A source of aspiration to young boys, whilst serving as one of fantasy to young girls. Clad in armour, bar his handsome face. His horse, likewise protected, but able to move with beautiful grace. The head of a foul beast in one hand while a fair damsel clutches his waist in fawning admiration. A champion of justice. A champion of the Light. Making his way through the Torajan Jungles to find and rescue a young boy from evil.

Making his way through said jungle, Seth had such an image in his mind. And he couldn't help but reflect on the absurdity of it all. Firstly, such knights were few and far between, especially in a land where it was far more common to rely on mercenaries for the protection of city and country. Secondly, any such knight in this climate would probably perish from heat-stroke in this climate, and his horse would likely follow. Thirdly, as with the mercenary paradigm, he'd sooner carry a bag of gold than a beast's head and if a damsel _was _with him...well, he hoped for her sake that it was mutual. Both then, and for what would inevitably come afterwards.

In essence, the entire image was due to his interactions with sell swords in Kurast, promoting an image that was as insubstantial as magic. Yet as he made his way through the jungles, his tunic drenched with sweat, he couldn't help but be reminded of it, if only for the presence of the sword at his side. In his haste to arm himself with a weapon before beginning his search for his brother, he'd forgotten to take a belt to let it dangle, or even a scabbard for the blade. The result was that he was forced to carry the damn thing alongside him, and while he'd had some idle fun cutting aside ferns for the sake of it, a few hours of walking with heavy metal had taken its toll. For all the talk of the dangers of the Torajan Jungles and the supposed evil presence that had gripped the lands of the East, the son of Passanius had yet to see any evidence of this. And given the knight image that kept popping into his mind, he wouldn't have been surprised if the tales of demons and monsters running amok had been spread by the very people who could be paid to fight them.

If it wasn't for Felix, he might have headed back to the convoy then and there. But Felix wasn't with him. And right now, as he sat down on a moss covered log, desperately wishing he'd taken a waterskin with him, he was beginning to think that perhaps it would have been wiser to plan his search from the start rather than search blindly.

_Blame the mercenaries..._the young man told himself, the need for that water becoming more and more pressing. _Only logical thing to do..._

Well, the only logical thing bar actually planning his search. Or taking a belt and scabbard. Or packing some water. Or...well, no doubt something else that he'd missed. As he reflected on his oversights, Seth wondered why he hadn't thought about them until now. The past few hours, searching on instinct and conscience alone...only now had his search of...'righteousness' worn off.

_Wish my thirst would wear off as well..._

But it wasn't. His need for water was as apparent as the dirty water soaking his tunic. Water that seemed to be leaving it, given the chills he was beginning to feel.

_But...that would mean the air would be drier..._Seth reflected, feeling his tunic to see how quickly the evaporation was occurring. _But why here?_

He could have been wrong of course. But the East was full of scholars who studied matters from the arcane to the mundane, and being the 'man with a bright future' that he was, he at least understood what one scholar had referred to as the water cycle. But right now, in this secluded, strangely dark corner of the jungle, the cycle was being broken. As was the sun's beams, apparently...

Seth grasped his sword as he rose to his feet, experiencing chills for reasons other than losing water to the air. The sun, once high in the sky and at its brightest, now seemed like a distant star, barely visible through the jungle's canopy. The vegetation...so...close...and cluttered...as if it was consciously closing in on him. And the air...it wasn't just dry. It was...oppressive...and hard to breathe. And while the son of Passanius didn't lose his cool, the breaths he was taking certainly didn't help matters.

_Sure could use some mercenaries now...heck, I'd even pay them..._

_Nothing and no-one can help you...accept that..._

Seth spun around, his breathing like a winded cow, his eyes like an aggravated ram. The voice...in his mind, but originating from outside it. And unlike his conscience, malignant. Hostile. Even frightening.

_Show yourself..._Seth thought, feeling foolish for engaging in a mind game, but also feeling that vocal words weren't needed at this point. _I'm not afraid..._

_A poor lie from a poor mortal who's so far turning out to be an even poorer adversary. Pitiful. Like the rest of the inhabitants of this world._

As malignant, as...intrusive as the voice was, it was the word "mortal" that unsettled Seth the most. Mortal...as opposed to what? Immortality? Who...or what possessed such a thing?

The teachings of the Zakarum might have the answer. And Seth didn't like the possibilities those teachings presented...

_This is ridiculous..._the voice continued, almost sounding like Passanius on one of his bad days. _First the worm from last night, now you...by the Void, I'm actually using your-..._

"Felix?" Seth exclaimed, the mental games forgotten. "Where is he? What have you-..."

_Silence!_

And the man fell silent. From those words alone. But if he had anything else to say, the ability to say it was instantly lost. The air grew warmer, his fear became more intense, and as the..._thing _emerged from the shadows, that fear instantly became outright terror.

_Your terror...it feeds me...more...more!_

Seth couldn't help it. Dropping his sword, falling to his knees, the welling desire to cast himself to the mercy of Heaven if it might let him escape the horror of the mortal realm...anything to avoid the being before him. A being of nothing but fire, yet the jungle remaining untouched by the inferno. No natural inferno then. Then again, there was nothing natural about this whatsoever.

_Beg to me..._the being sneered. _Cast yourself before me...serve me...as I serve the true masters of Hell..._

Seth wished the creature had eyes. If it did, he might have been able to meet them in defiance, as pitiful a gesture that would have been right now when his own were clouded by tears of terror, turned into gas instantly by the heat before him. This creature...it didn't even have a physical form. Four to five metres tall and half as wide, it wasn't so much a being surrounded by fire, but one of fire itself. No sword, axe or bow could prevail against such a monster. And as the creature slowly made its way towards him, as he watched his sword be consumed by the blaze while the fallen leaves of the jungle remained untouched, he was only reminded of such a fact.

_And you never even used your blade..._the inferno sneered. _Pitiful._

Seth looked up at the area where a head would have been. The fear was still there, but such insults...they were too like the words he got from his father for his liking. And yet the creature had a point-he'd never even tried to use his blade. As gripping as the terror was, the shame was beginning to quickly catch up, along with his instinct to survive. Mortal and frail he might be, but that still had a few advantages over a demon...he hoped.

As he rose to his feet, his legs nearly buckling under his fear the entire time, Seth supposed he'd find out.

_Oh? _the fire cackled. _You stand? How pleasant. And unexpected._

Seth did stand. Fighting the fear, fighting the terror, it was all he _could _do right now.

_Well? _the demon asked. _Will you fight me? Join me? Or shall I just consume your flesh as I do your terror?_

For a moment, it struck Seth as odd that the being would hold out so long. "Consuming terror..." whatever that meant. But then again, the whole situation was odd. And as he steadied his breathing, as he remembered Felix, it was time to make this situation a bit less odd by doing the only logical thing.

Run. Run like hell.

Run like hell...away from Hell itself.

And hope that the fiery roar behind him wasn't indicative of being pursued.

* * *

The being was concerned.

A risk had been taken, the being knew that. The pact between Heaven and Hell in regards to Sanctuary was crystal clear, and for all the misery the banishment of the Prime Evils had inflicted on it, they technically hadn't violated that pact. Some among the being's kind couldn't care, or thought that Man had to prove himself worthy of Heaven's aid. Some thought that Man should be eradicated for the risk they presented. Or, as the being had demonstrated, some thought that it was wrong to simply stand aside as the Burning Hells ran amok, the laws of the Sin War be damned.

And the being hadn't technically violated them. Yaerius had first brought word of the Light to Men, leading to the founding of the Zakarum. Speaking to the mortal in this realm wasn't too different, all things considered. Or perhaps not all things, as it was clear that he was no Akarat, and that if he had any potential to take a place amongst the servants of Order, it had yet to be realized. And if the monster known as Zagan had his way, it never would.

_How...disappointing._

No. More than disappointing. Disgusting. The minions of Hell running amok in the mortal realm and Heaven was perfectly willing to stand by.

There were some amongst the warriors of Order who might go even further, being labelled as mavericks at best or heretics at worst. The being...didn't know if it was possible to go down such a road. But the servant of the Light would do what was possible. If Zagan's fire was to continue to spread...

...Maybe something similar to fire would be used against it.

* * *

Seth now knew what it felt like to be a mouse.

In his infancy, before his mother and dozens of others had succumbed to plague, he'd been the brief owner of a cat. Specifically a feral one that he'd done his best to hide from the family. The animal was perfectly willing to eat the pieces of meat he was able to smuggle out to its hiding place in their old barn, but as he'd watched the creature chase after a field mouse, it was clear that it was perfectly capable of seeking its own prey. An animal simply following its instincts to consume. And in its case, toy with its prey before devouring it. It was the same incident that alerted his mother to the feline's presence. And so taken aback by the display of what Men would regard as cruelty, he hadn't bothered to argue at the time.

Right now, Seth was the mouse. And this...thing pursuing him was more sadistic than that cat ever could be.

_Faster...faster! _the demon shouted in his mind, yet with the volume of a whisper. _Give me sport! Give me substance! Give me anything!_

_Go to Hell, _Seth thought, but without conviction. They were already there.

_Faster...faster..._

And the son of Passanius did run faster. His lungs burning with the fire of the mortal plane, his brow slick with the sweat of fear, his eyes as wide as those of Heaven, apparently content to let such things exist in the world...all he could do was run. Run like the scared mouse he was, knowing full well that the predator behind him was merely toying with its prey.

Was this how the mouse had felt, all those years ago? Or was it unaware of its fate, thinking it had a chance of survival? Such was the burden of intelligence.

Intelligent enough to glance back at the demon, noticing that its fire still left the jungle untouched. Yet damage had still been done, with many of the trees having had branches torn off or been outright knocked over. Almost as if something physical had-...

_Fear...terror...it feeds me...__**it feeds me!**_

Letting out a gasp of fear and exhaustion, Seth tumbled to the ground, face first into muddy leaves. Trembling, yet managing to glance back at his pursuer, the young man knew that was the least of his problems.

_Well...that was fulfilling...sort of..._the demon sneered, his inferno of heat and hatred washing over the mortal. _But I've taken my share. My master will want the rest._

"M...master?" Seth stammered, so taken aback by these words that he forgot that they were unneeded. "What do you-..."

_Your understanding isn't required, only your death._

Seth had been afraid of that. Not nearly as afraid as he watched the unholy fire move to envelop him, but afraid nonetheless. Yet it was becoming hard to judge. As the fire reached out for him, fear was all he knew. Closing his eyes, unable to utter even the most basic of prayers, he waited for the heat to engulf him...and waited...and waited...

_No...no...not again!_

And opening his eyes, he stopped waiting.

It happened quickly. But from what Seth briefly saw, white light had enveloped him and everything he could see. It was...surreal. Peaceful even. And as he felt his terror leave him, it was most welcome. In fact, as the light filled his vision, then left it, the only unpleasant part was the ending.

_Son of a..._

Seth grasped for a lifeline, and only at the last second reached it. He didn't know what the light had done, or what the demon meant by "not again." Heck, he didn't even know where he was bar still being in the Torajan Jungles. But he did know that he'd somehow landed in a tree, and by only grasping onto one of its upper branches was he able to defy gravity's murderous intentions.

_First demons, then the natural laws of the world...what's next?_

"Seth?" asked a timid voice. "Is that you?"

And finding its source, Seth found out what "next" actually entailed.


	4. Water

.

**Diablo: Jungle of Shadow**

**Chapter 3: Water**

Zagan was irritated.

Not livid. Not angry. Not enraged. Not any of the emotions that were the mainstay of the Demonic Hordes. Just...irritated. Because while he'd suffered inconvenience, it was still nothing more than that. He'd been here for decades, operating within this area of Sanctuary, doing his master's work. Enough to please him, but not enough to draw the attention of mortals opposed to Hell, or those who might seek to use Hell's powers for their own ends. Granted, Hell had been distant ever since he arrived on this wretched world but...well, he had his role in this universe, as did any other demon or angel. Only Man was without purpose. Which made them ideal to be swayed to the cause of Chaos.

Or consumed by that cause...

Yet twice he'd been robbed of his prey, and all within the space of a day. Twice, he'd had his prey at his mercy, only for them to disappear in a flash of white light, powerful enough even to give his fire pause. He knew that some mortals were capable of wielding magic, some even powerful enough to traverse the Ether. Yet neither of the boys had given any indication of magical talent, even less than the physical kind. If what Zagan had heard was true, Man had hidden potential being suppressed by an object of immense power, but to spontaneously reveal itself? Angels might be adept at such despicable trickery, but mortals were another story.

Well, no matter. He'd achieved success before against far more dangerous opponents. He was immortal. He had all the time in the world. Whilst his prey's time was running out as surely as the sands of an hourglass. Like dust...and ashes.

After he and his master took their fill, it would be all that was left of them.

* * *

Felix the dreamer, a.k.a. Felix the mummy's boy, a.k.a. Felix the poor sod who was stuck in a tree, was surprised to find that his unfortunate predicament was shared by another poor sod. A poor sod who was two summers older than him. A poor sod who looked far less of a poor sod than he was. A poor sod who just happened to be his older brother. And, for that matter, looked just as surprised to see his sibling as Felix was.

Which was strange. Because Felix hadn't been the one to appear in a flash of white light just a few seconds ago.

"Seth..." the young boy asked. "Is that you?"

"No, I'm not. I'm just some guy who _happens _to look like your big brother."

An awkward silence passed between the two sons of Passanius, made even more awkward by the fact that they were sitting on branches as if playing a game from their youth. And with Felix letting go of said branches to hug his sibling...well, things became very awkward indeed. Yet Felix didn't care-Seth was here, and he wasn't alone. And while he did not possess the gift of reading minds, he took comfort that at the very least, the elder son of Passanius was willing to let the younger son have his moment of comfort.

"I've...been here..." Felix spluttered, fighting back tears of relief. "Since...last night. The thing...the...the..."

"A thing..." Seth said slowly. "Great description."

"I..."

"A thing of fire. A thing that's a demon. A thing that probably made you as terrified as I was..."

Felix withdrew from the embrace, his relief partially replaced by surprise. Seth had always been the strong one. For him to admit to fear like this? And to the existence of demons?

"I thought you didn't believe in all that..." the young boy said cautiously. "Heaven...Hell...the tales of the Zakarum and Vizjerei...are you saying-..."

"All I'm saying is that I know what I saw," Seth interrupted bluntly. "A...thing of fire. A demon. Apart from that...well, I don't know, and I don't care."

_Typical Seth..._Felix reflected. _Just like dad...only believes what he sees or hears. Maybe even less._

Granted, Passanius had put some credit in the tales of woe gripping the East, but Felix had always gone a step beyond that of the trader. Heaven, Hell, angels, demons...he found it fascinating. Something beyond what he could see or understand. Something to believe in, albiet not necessarily under the teachings of the Zakarum. He'd wanted to see...to experience more. And ironically, that wish had been granted last night.

"So, um..." Felix began. "I don't suppose anyone else is with you? I mean, I appreciate you teleporting here, but..."

Seth let out a sigh. "Father didn't want to risk it." He met his brother's eyes, as if to apologize for Passanius's decision. "I'm sorry Felix. I tried...really I did...but he wouldn't listen. I came alone. And after seeing that...thing...out there...well, maybe that's for the best."

"What?"

Seth's eyes met the ground. "Only the two of us need to die out here."

Silence descending between the two brothers, only broken by a faint breeze above the canopy. It was an eeriness that Felix had become used to over the time he'd been here. Waiting for rescue, listening for the sounds of the jungle and failing to hear them bar what could be the sound of a river. If Seth noticed the silence, he didn't care. Didn't care anymore than what he thought was imminent death. And while Seth had ever been the realist, he was _not _a fatalist. And Felix still had enough hope...or faith...that a difference still existed between the two.

"Seth...it isn't over," the young boy began. "I mean...we're still here right? I mean...you appeared out of nowhere. _I _appeared out of nowhere. We-..."

"Wait a minute..._you _appeared in this tree as well?" Seth asked, meeting his brother's gaze again. "As in..._appeared_ appeared?"

"As in a white light that had the same effect of a transportation spell, yes. I mean...one moment I was called into the jungle, the next this...thing bore down on me. And when I thought all was lost...well, I found myself here. A miracle of the High Heavens as some might call it."

"But not me..." Seth murmured. "Miracles are rare. Miracles are for true followers of the Light. Miracles...don't strike in the space of a few hours."

Felix smiled faintly, glad that his brother was returning to his rational self. "Well, that's one way of putting it..."

"And you said you were called...like a voice? In your mind?"

Felix nodded.

"It was the same for me..." Seth continued, talking to himself as much as his sibling. "A voice...like my conscience. I was nothing but prey to that demon. Like the housekeeper uses cheese to lure in a rat, or the fisherman uses a worm to lure in the fish...he called us in. Except we're free. We're not in his mouse hole anymore." He rested a hand on his brother's shoulder. "We might have a chance."

"And we might have to think of some more metaphors."

Seth smiled faintly...then stopped. Reality check, Felix knew. And not a pleasant one.

"Except we don't know where our own hole is."

"Our _what_?"

"The convoy," Seth said firmly. "Our father. A man who might be willing to leave us out here, but is still surrounded by men who know how to wield weapons."

Felix raised an eyebrow. "You think metal would do anything against a thing like that?"

"Probably not," Seth admitted. "But...strength in numbers. Problem is, where's the convoy in regards to our position?"

"We follow the sun," Felix said, gesturing to the orb of fire above the canopy. "It's hard to make out, but-..."

"Felix, I know that Seram is to the south," Seth interrupted. "But the convoy could be in any direction. We could be anywhere in Toraja, and without proper supplies or arms..."

"But arms won't do anything!" Felix exclaimed. "It's a thing of fire. F-I-R-E. Metal is _forged_ in fire. Heck, if you could summon a rainstorm it might help us, but..."

Felix trailed off, because it was clear that Seth was no longer listening. Or rather, no longer listening to him. In fact, he was listening to something else...

"Do you hear that?" the elder son asked eventually.

"Hear what?"

"_That_," Seth said firmly, as if accenting the word might help explain it better. "That...roar. That...that-..."

"Oh, the river?" Felix asked. "Probably the Argantek. It runs through-..."

Seth shook his head. "Not loud enough, and unless we've been transported dozens of miles from the convoy, too far away. On the other hand...if it's a stream or tributary..."

Felix saw what Seth was thinking immediately, and didn't know what to think in turn. _You're thinking outside the box no, eh? _Or _don't be an idiot _came to mind.

"Felix...that thing is made of fire..." Seth began. "That thing's also the number one threat to our survival, and if his calls to us are any indication, can probably find us. So..."

"Seth...I know fire puts out water," the sixteen year-old interrupted. "But that demon isn't stupid."

"No...but he is solid."

"...what?"

Again, Seth was going into his own world, picking up a twig off his branch and fiddling with it, as if it helped him think. If they ever made it back to their father, he might think that his elder son had "done a Felix on him."

"That demon's made of fire..." Seth said slowly. "But if that was the case...why didn't he catch up to me?"

"He was playing with you?"

"Maybe...but while I was running, I noticed that many branches and trees had been destroyed, as if physically." Seth snapped the twig to demonstrate. "Fire doesn't do that. Bodies do. And given his size...well, he can burn the jungles, or outright uproot them."

Felix nodded slowly, seeing his brother's point. "So you're saying the demon...he's not fire, but rather surrounded by it?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. But if there _is _something solid in him...then we can hit him."

"Or be incinerated."

"I'm willing to take that chance," the elder son of Passanius declared, extending his hand as if to seal a pact. "How about you?"

Felix thought about it. The thought of taking on a demon, like something out of the tales his mother once read to him. Only there was no knight. No mage. No hero. Just two boys. Two brothers. Two sides of the same coin.

Grasping his sibling's hand, he hoped that would be enough.

* * *

There was a river behind him, and Seth didn't know whether he was on the side of crazy, or the side of insanity.

Granted, that was probably a moot point. The plan he and Felix had spent the last few hours setting up relied on many things, but their level of sanity was pretty much superfluous. After that...well, he'd let his own mind do the figurative and literal talking. Were he to fall under the influence of whispers in his mind, prescribed treatment of bodily and spiritual cleansing to remove the demons from...he shook it off. Far more important things to worry about, and those possessed by demons within their minds were often beyond saving anyway.

"Zagan, demon of the Burning Hells! This servant of the Light calls out and challenges you!"

And chances were he was beyond saving now. And not just for the most pretentious challenge he could come up with.

Did the demon know where he was, standing beneath the trees, under the shadows of a setting sun? Could he hear him, or sense him? Would he lure him in with whispers in his mind as before, or would he be willing to come to him? Not that the demon would have anything to fear from a simple villager of Seram, but if his theory about the basic elements was true, then the demon might eschew caution in this setting.

"Demon, the Light stands firm! The Light is patient! The Light will outlast the dark!"

_The Light...probably has nothing to do with patience. Maybe the pretentiousness though..._

_The Light is but a delusion of both Heaven and this world. And Hell shall conquer both._

Despite the whispers of the demon, Seth smiled. Pretentiousness was apparently universal to Man, demon and angel alike. Now all he needed was an angel to actually show up and prevent him from losing his life.

Zagan's presence was apparent long before he actually neared. Twilight was imminent and the low levels of light within the jungle reflected this. In the gloom, Zagan's fire was the only point of illumination. Yet the elder son of Passanius suspected there was more to it than that. In their first encounter, Zagan had caught him unawares. Here however, he was making no effort to hide his presence. He was confident in his chances of success...and unlike his foe's, it was confidence that was well founded.

_Fear...terror...despair...weep..._

Seth didn't know whether it was his own mind talking, or the demon. The fear...it was taking hold again. He stood his ground, watching his foe advance, determined not to run. Which wouldn't be hard. Not falling under his now lead-like legs would be the real challenge.

_You are unarmed...I expected you to at least fashion something out of your settings._

"I need not weapons nor armour. The Light will provide me with all the spiritual armour that I need."

Silence fell over the jungle. Sound non-existent, all that was left was horrific sight, and suffocating smell. At least, until Zagan let loose unearthly laughter, like the cackling of birds gone mad.

_Hilarious...I shall miss you, mortal. For all the lies and hypocrisy of Order, there is something that only Heaven and its servants can provide. Of course, it will do you no good in the end._

"The end comes...for you...demon..." Seth rasped, trying to maintain his act, but struggling against the raw terror emanating from the creature. "You lured me in...searching for..."

_What?_

The terror receded slightly. Puzzled, Seth glanced up towards the flame, where Zagan's head would be if he possessed such a thing. He couldn't make out any visual expression (probably just as well), but something told him that he'd caught the demon off its guard.

_Mortal, I know the servants of Order...and Men...spurt lies by compulsion, _the demon growled eventually. _Yet I am curious...lured you in?_

"The voice in my head," Seth said firmly. "Like how you lured in my brother."

_Ah yes, the little imp. The same wretch that disappeared before my eyes...the same way you did. But no, human, I never spoke to you._

"But the voices...in my head..."

_Your own insanity._

Seth felt unease welling within him, and not only because of the fact that he was looking at a creature over three metres tall. In light of Felix's account, he'd been sure that his 'conscience' had been Zagan, speaking to him as he had to his younger brother. But if not...well, the demon probably had no reason to lie, and there was the fact that both of them had been whisked away at the last moment...had he ever stopped to consider _that_?

He might have then and there. He might have wondered if the true servants of the Light were walking against the demon and if so, why they weren't being more overt. But there was the antithesis of the Light right before him and it was rapidly closing the gap.

_It matters not. You shall be taken. Your terror shall feed me and my master. And before it's all over, you will pray...beg...to be taken by the fires of Hell. You will-..._

"Now!"

Seth dived to the ground, but not in submission. He shouted, but not at his foe. He prayed, but not to the realm of angels. He closed his eyes, but not in despair. Rather, if this was to be his end, he didn't have to see it. If not...he would see the results in a few seconds. And as a roar reverberated through the Torajan Jungles, as he bellows continued, as he felt the beat of his heart against the jungle floor...well, he was still here. And as the plan had worked, Felix was in the trees above.

Seth's theory that Zagan had some corporeal form had proven correct. That was why the two sons of Passanius had spent the last few hours binding a fallen tree with vines, rigging it like a battering ram used in the sieges that Felix spent so much time reading about. Only it would be suspended in the air, with the younger sibling cutting the vines with a sharpened rock at the right time. When Zagan was close enough to the river, leading to a demonstration whether the laws of the elements still applied to the beings of Hell. And as he opened his eyes, Seth saw that they did.

_**Water! Filth! Lying, decrepit**_** filth!**

"Keep talking demon..." Seth murmured, watching as the fire was extinguished by nature, as black clouds of smoke rose into the air, only to disappear. "They're your last words."

_**We shall never die! The thought of us is forever! We shall live on in the bleeding hearts of Men! Your world will be ours or fall to the powers of Hell!**_

"Forgive me if I don't tremble in my boots."

_**Confidence born of ignorance! You shall burn! Your bodies the playthings of hounds, your souls the feast of the Prime Evils! **_

Seth didn't answer. For all he knew, Zagan was telling the truth. Perhaps the woe besetting the East was the sign of something greater.

But as the demon disappeared beneath the river, he could at least take solace that Zagan at least, wouldn't be around to see it.


	5. Darkness

.

**Diablo: Jungle of Shadow**

**Chapter 4: Darkness**

"So Felix...do you think the convoy's still there?"

"Well, my gut says no. But then again, I haven't had any food pass through it all day, it probably doesn't know what the hell it's saying."

"...please, don't mention Hell."

Felix meant it, and while his elder brother might have taken advantage of his emotions a decade or so ago, now was a different time. He didn't know how much the encounter with the demon had changed their bond, but Felix knew that it had changed _him_. Dreams were all well and good, but now, he would inevitably find them balanced with nightmares. Perhaps even superseded by them. Even with the light that had saved them, the voice in his brother's head that was not of Zagan...something dark was within him now. As surely as dark surrounded them.

"You sure you can see where you're going?" the younger son of Passanius asked, his wary eyes straining to make out objects in the gloom. "I mean..."

"Touch and go, little brother. Touch and go."

And Seth meant it. They'd spent the last hours of sunset heading what they hoped was south, and it had paid off as they found the tracks left by the convoy. Neither brother was particularly knowledgeable in the art of tracking, but Seth had guessed from the faintness of the wagon tracks that the convoy had passed by this spot in the jungle some time ago. All that was left to do was follow it to the point where it had left off. True, if it had gone to Seram they could perhaps track it all the way back, but even with the demon gone, the jungle still reportedly held many dangers.

"We're not going to find them, are we?" Felix asked softly, shivering in the gloom for reasons other than the transpiration of his earlier perspiration. "They've left us..."

"Father wouldn't do that..."

"Wouldn't he?"

Seth didn't answer. He'd told Felix why he'd come alone, why Passanius had refused to lend aid. He knew he shouldn't be surprised, that he should be grateful that his brother had come after him, that same brother having expressed doubt that the convoy would be there as well. But still...

"Wait."

Felix stopped. Even in the gloom, he could see his brother's hand extended out before him. And he could also see what likely prompted Seth to tell him to wait in the first place. A torch, flickering in the gloom, like a solitary firefly. Flame unlike that of Zagan, but flame nonetheless...

"Brother?" the young teen asked. "What do we do?"

Seth remained silent, still holding out his hand. The flame was moving closer towards them. But were they like the lamp that drew in the moth, or were they grass awaiting the flame?

"Seth?" came the voice of the torch. "Felix?"

Or...were their grim expectations completely wrong?

"Father?" Seth asked, lowering his hand from his brother, but still remaining stationary. "Is that you?"

Felix's heart began pounding as the figure emerged from the gloom. A figure that had the form of a man he knew. A figure whose visage was revealed to be that of Passanius, father of Seth and Felix, husband of Santori. A figure who as he drew closer, stopped, dropped his torch, and sprinted (or what counted as sprinting for a man his age) towards both of his sons, embracing them both. As one. As equals. As family.

"Felix...Seth..." he whispered, tightening the embrace. "You're safe..."

Felix didn't know what to say. On one hand, his father was hugging him, an act that he couldn't remember since the age of seven. On the other, this was the man who'd been quite willing to leave him to the Burning Hells. To leave with the son that didn't remind him of his deceased wife. Luckily, he didn't have to say anything. Breaking off the embrace, it was Seth who would do the talking.

"Yes, father, we're safe..." said the trader's elder son cordially. "No thanks to you I might add..."

Passanius lowered his head slightly. "Yes, it's true. And for that I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't worry. It's not as if we're family or anything."

"Yes, my son, you are," intoned the elderly man gravely. "You're family. Family that my men possess also."

"And you put them before-..."

"I let them put _their _own families before mine. That's why the convoy has gone. That's why I waited here for you." He turned to Felix, affection radiating from his old eyes. "For both of you. Because I care for both of you. Even...if I don't always show it."

Seth glanced at Felix. Felix glanced back. What should he make of this? Should he be touched that his father waited? Disgusted that he didn't come after him? Glad that, for now at least, both sons of Passanius were equally important to him. He didn't know.

But then again, he wasn't Passanius. He didn't have the responsibility of other men to deal with. Perhaps...doing what was both right and wrong...was what Passanius had done. What he'd had to do. To be in balance with family and friends. So no...he wouldn't judge him. He and his brother had been granted mercy today, he was sure of it. He wouldn't dishonour that granter of mercy by refusing to forgive his own kin.

"I can imagine you might have much to tell me," Passanius said, picking up his torch and procuring some waterskins and salted meat. "But for now...I think that story can wait."

"Can it?" Seth asked.

"Yes, it can," said Felix softly. "We...we're together now. Once we're home...then we'll have all the time in the world."

And he really hoped that. That Zagan wasn't part of something wider. That things would get better in the East. He hoped that one day, he could dream without fear again.

And as he gratefully accepted the flask and meat from his father, as the family took part in their evening meal, Felix, son of both Passanius and Santori, believed that could one day be the case.

* * *

The being was...interested.

What he was interested _in _however...that was another matter, and not one he was inclined to share. Not even the corpse of Zagan, the demon's extinguished form washed up on the banks of the stream like flotsam and jetsam. He was interested in how this had come to be, how such a mighty servant had been felled. He was interested in the race of Men, how if beings among their number could do this, how valuable they might be were they turned to the cause of Hell. And last but not least, he was interested in the other entity he had sensed. What that might mean for him and his allies...

As silverly light filled the gloom, the being knew he wouldn't have to wait long to find out. Angels were so predictable.

The demon turned to face the divine being. While he was a shadowy being, barely capable of existing in the physical realm, the angel was sheer radiance. White tendril-like wings, golden armour, soft robes the colour of sky and sea...disgusting, really. Both in form, and the idea that a servant of Heaven would bother with a being as "wretched" as himself.

_Well, keep thinking that you misguided fool. Keep thinking that right up until I tear your head from your shoulders._

"We may speak as we may here," the angel intoned. "You need not hide in the shadows from me."

"Stay much longer, and the same awaits you," the demon growled, meeting the angel's blank gaze, avoiding the damage a mortal might incur from such an act in much the same way the angel was able to resist the feelings of dread he generated. "You feel it, don't you? The suffocation? The hindering of your powers?"

"That doesn't concern me."

"No...I expect it doesn't."

But it did concern him. That was why he'd lurked here for much of the Dark Exile over the last few decades. That was why Zagan had brought mortals to him over that time, the demon feeding on their fear to help sustain his shadowy form, subsisting on their emotion in much the same way the lesser demon had. It was a simple relationship, and had served them well right up until now. Until the angel had spoken in the mind of one of the humans, playing the same mind games Zagan had. Had even teleported them to safety, once each.

"I must say, you surprise me..." the demon sneered. "I never thought the servants of _Order _would be so willing to concern themselves with mortal matters."

"Judge me all you want, demon," the angel intoned. "Heaven's judgement is all I answer to, not the word of some wretched creature who-..."

"**Silence!"**

The demon lunged forward, his shadow moving through the gloom like a shark might swim among fish. Only the effect was non-existent, the angel's wings shielding him from the fel energy. His...no..._her..._

"Auriel..." the demon chuckled, remembering the being from numerous battles, along with the pact both Heaven and Hell made to leave Sanctuary be. "I did not expect to see _you _down here...what would the archangel of what is called love want with me?"

"Nothing," Auriel intoned, her voice like a sweet melody and thus torture to the demon's vaporous ears. "Nothing at all. Not from you at least. All I want is to see as few innocents suffer from your hands as possible."

"Innocents..." the being snorted. "Don't play the 'holier than thou' game, _angel_. You care nothing for Man. No more or less than we do. If you truly believed the hypocrisy you and your followers teach, you'd strike me down, here and now. But no...you operate on _rules_...on _standards_...you would not interfere directly, even when we banished few have no choice to. Oh no, angel...you are no better than us..."

Auriel's wings receded, much to the demon's satisfaction. It was true, and she knew it. For all her preaching and posturing, Man was nothing but a curiosity to Heaven. A race that was an accident, and some among their number believed should be eradicated accordingly. They would not break the laws of the Great Conflict, wouldn't risk one of their own even if a thousand innocents could be spared. At least, not yet. One eventually would. The demon was counting on it.

"I take my leave," Auriel intoned. "I have helped your intended prey to the bare minimum, no more or less than any other angel who consorts with Man. I thus leave you to the darkness."

"I welcome it, angel. Leave me...and don't return unless you intend to meet me in a more direct manner."

"Not I..." the archangel said firmly. "But soon...soon you will find that mortals will find it within them to bind you. It's in their nature. In their...souls, if you will."

"I'm counting on it."

And with that, the angel was gone. Gone to the High Heavens. Gone to the realm where soon, one would serve Hell through his or her actions. Serve in just the way Izual had predicted.

But for now though, he had to wait. Wait in the darkness. Wait for the time when the soulstones were brought to bear.

But that suited him just fine. He and his brothers had all the time in the world.

And Diablo, Lord of Terror, would relish every moment of it.

**The End**

* * *

_A/N_

_Well, that's that done._

_Even up to the point of writing this, the concept of this chapter gave me problems, as to which angel to use, since my M.O. is to use canon characters when I have the opportunity to do so, yet not only are there not that many angels named, but few can be said to really give a damn about Sanctuary bar its possible role in the Great Conflict. Tyrael was a no-no in this case, in that not only does this story take place before the formation of the Horadrim, but I personally suspect that he may have deeper motives to be revealed in _Diablo III_. Yaerius was a possibility, but considering that he seems to have stuck to Heaven's M.O. by simply directing the founding of the Zakarum, taking an active role was perhaps a bit of a stretch. As such, I settled on Auriel-compassionate enough to have an interest in individual humans, but not on the level of Tyrael's defiance of the Angiris Council._

_Anyway, as I said above, that's that. No other _Diablo _stories currently on my 'to write' list. By way of shameless plugging, at this time of writing, I'm working on a _Sonic the Hedgehog _story titled _Heads or Tails_._


End file.
